


Hops and Honey

by WriterWithNoName1



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Esca cannot handle his drink, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Gay Farmers, M/M, Marcus is too Roman for this nonsence, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWithNoName1/pseuds/WriterWithNoName1
Summary: Esca comes home from the inn feeling very amorous, Marcus is not amused.





	Hops and Honey

Marcus was awoken by someone licking his neck.

He sat up at once, rigid, hearing a curse as the doer collapsed to the floor. A series of other curses followed, slurred and mixed with the sound of unsteady attempts to rise. Esca was home from the inn.

"Marcus... where are you?" He asked, hiccupping.

"I'm here, Esca." With one hand, Marcus lifted Esca by the back of his tunic and brought him to the edge of the bed. "As always."

"C'mere." The Briton pawed vaguely in the direction of Marcus' face until he clasped at the Roman's neck and attempted to bring him downward. "Kiss."

"No." Marcus batted him away with ease, Esca let out a whiny noise. "You stink. Did you drink the ale or bathe in it?"

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?"

"That isn't going to work." Marcus responded drily, rubbing his eyes. "Answer the question."

Esca swayed. “I cannot recall." He tried to climb over Marcus to the vacant side of the bed, but ended up giving up half way through the effort and flopping over the Roman's knees. "Mphm…"

Marcus sighed, wrinkling his nose at the strong stink of alcohol. He hated Esca when he was drunk like this, he was gropey and difficult. “You need to sleep off the drink.” He said, pulling Esca’s tunic off for him. He didn’t want Esca to sleep in his clothes.

“I need to make love. Right now.” Esca turned himself around and sat astride Marcus’ hips, then he began to pluck at the Roman’s chest. “Take your tunic off too.”

“I’ve told you, no.” As gently as he could, Marcus shoved Esca off and let him drop onto his back where there was room; the Briton landed with a soft thump on the mattress.

Marcus found a comfortable position and tried to settle back into slumber. “Go to sleep.”

Esca growled. “Fuck me.”

“No.”

“…could I fuck you then?” He asked coyly. “Like… the other day?”

“No!” Marcus shouted, his ears burning at the thought, and was appalled at the fact Esca could say such a thing out _loud_. He felt warmth spreading to his lower regions and willed his body not to respond to Esca’s drunken attempts at seduction.

Esca pouted. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“…if you don’t shut up and go to sleep I will pack my things, and take the cow with me.” Marcus threatened.

“Ha! We both know Flavia likes _me_ best.” Esca taunted, sticking his tongue out at his lover. “Besides you wouldn’t last three days out there on your own.”

Marcus scowled. “Oh, couldn’t I?” Before Esca could reply, he turned his back to the Briton, his pride smarting at the jibe. He may not have Esca’s knowledge of the land, but he could very well survive in the wilderness if he had too. “Well _then_. I suppose I’m stuck here with you.”

There were a few moments of blissful quiet, and Marcus thanked Mithras that Esca had finally passed out. But alas he was wrong, as he felt the smaller man shuffling closer and felt a chilly nose press against his back.

“Esca-” Marcus said, a warning in his voice.

“M’sorry.” Esca whispered, his breath hot on Marcus’ skin. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 _You’re drunk, and I’m too tired to deal with you._ Marcus shifted on the bed. “I’m not upset.”

Esca began to kiss the expanse of the Roman’s back, paying particular attention to his freckles.  “I love you so much…” He breathed in a heavy voice. “You make me warm all over…”

Marcus shivered, reaching his hand behind him and finding Esca’s hip. He gave it a squeeze. “Enough now. I’m not angry with you. But please, for the love of all the gods and goddesses, go to _sleep_.”

“Could we…tomorrow? Maybe?”

Marcus blushed again. “Yes. When you’re sober.”

The Briton continued his affections for a few more moments, before nestling as close to Marcus as humanly possible; his breathing slowing, his heart a soft, familiar rhythm that the Roman knew well.  

“You are going to have such a headache tomorrow.” Marcus murmured, a smile curling on his lips as he shut his eyes at last. His hand had never left Esca’s side.


End file.
